What Happens When Murphy's Law is Against You
by MatureImmaturity
Summary: Animated JLA. A girl gets the 'shock' of her life when she wakes up in Gotham City, her parents oblivious to the fictional world around them. Can she handle the the strain of living somewhere that doesn't exist? Rating for language.
1. Shocked Into Submission

Author's note: Mwahaha! The master of crossover fics from the real world has returned! No, really. I'm starting another story. Today, we're going to delve into the world of ::drum roll plays for three seconds, then stops:: The Justice League! It'll start out with Batman, but I'll include the others in due time. Anyway, you all basically _know _the plot by now. ::silence:: Don't tell me. You haven't read the other fics?! How could you? ::random reader comes up in cyberspace, shows author how they click on only one of her stories:: Oh, like that. Well, as long as you have a good excuse. On to yet another crossover! Huzzah!

**What Happens When Murphy's Law Is Against You******

            "Dun da da duuuuum! Dun daaaaaa!" I sang, improvising the Justice League theme. Another episode had just finished on Cartoon Network, but I was still imagining that I was right there with them. I jumped off the couch onto the carpet and held up my hand to my face like a microphone. "Dun da da duuuuum! Dun daaaaaa!" 

            My father laughed at my antics from where he was sitting in our recliner, reading the newspaper.

            "I think it's time for our Junior Justice League Member to get to bed, Marissa," he reprimanded, going into what I like to call 'parental mode.'

            "Awww, but Dad!" I whined, putting my hand on top of the TV, "It's my life force!" 

            "Listen to your father, Marissa. Don't you have a history test tomorrow?" scolded my mother, coming down from upstairs where she had just finished her shower.

            I groaned.

            "That's right; why did you have to remind me?"

            They both smiled.

            "Marissa, you have to get people to respect you with the grades you get, because I doubt they'll do that with the clothes _you_ wear."

  I sighed. Ever since I had hit thirteen one year ago, I had started wearing punkish clothes that my parents didn't approve of. Right then, I had on low riding green camouflage cargo pants and a black tank top that said in white block letters, 'Hating you makes me feel all warm inside.' It ended just above my belly button. In addition, it showed off some cleavage that I liked having at my age. The girls at junior high (eighth grade, which I had just entered that year) were jealous of that and my creamy white skin tone that fit my 5'5' frame perfectly. All _they_ had were pasty white complexions that just showed they needed to get out in the sun more.

            "Dad, we've been over this before. It's called free expression. It's not like I'm going out and getting _drunk_ or anything."

            "I know honey. I just don't want you drawing unwanted attention."

            "I'm _not_! If guys even look at me the wrong way, I––" I was cut off, because lightning had just struck our house. While I was touching the TV. While it was still on. The last thing I saw was the ceiling as I passed out on our living room floor. (A/n: My characters tend to pass out a lot, don't they? Maybe they have narcolepsy . . . ^_^')

* * * * *       

  


           When I woke from unconsciousness, the first thing I saw was my mom's worried face. My mother noticed before my father.

            "Marissa! George, come here! She woke up!"

            She swooped down to check on me as my father rushed in from the kitchen, where I could tell he had been drinking coffee for several hours. He does that when he's worried or anxious about something.

            "Marissa, do you feel faint? Has anything changed? A headache?"

            I pushed them both away as I sat up.

            "I'm fine.  I'm fine. No headache, no nothing. Though I will have difficulty breathing if you don't give me some space."

            They chuckled and my mother replied,

            "Well, at least we know you're back. You're absolutely sure you're okay?"

            "I'm _fine_, now can I at _least get something to eat before bed?"_

            "Sure, of course Marissa," replied my father. I grinned at him and headed off into the kitchen. Soon I returned with a small, glass bowl of vanilla ice cream and saw then watching the news, something about a bank heist. Not caring much, I went to kiss them goodnight and go up to my room when something on TV caught my eye. Batman. 

            The reporter seemed not to care that he was describing a fictional character's supposed capture of The Joker, a villain who was also fictional. Looking at my parents, I realized they didn't really care either. I joked around, saying,

            "Guess Batman and Joker aren't the best of friends, eh?"

            My mother smiled, looking up at me from the screen, and replied,

            "Nope, they've been rivals since before you were born, here in Gotham. Fourteen plus years, you'd think one of them would've gone to see a shrink."

            I chuckled weakly, and headed up to my room, hoping it was still the same. To my immense relief, nothing much was changed. All that was gone were posters of different singers from magazines I had picked up. I rushed over to the window, only to turn a pale chalk white at the sight that I beheld.

            As my delirious (this is how I thought of them) parents had afore mentioned, we lived in _Gotham. __Batman's Gotham. __Crap, I thought, thinking I had gone crazy. There were no signs of the city that I grew up in, a small town outside of the southern border of Idaho, with less than four-hundred people. _Okay_, I told myself, _there has to be a logical explanation for this. Doesn't there? I mean, fictional worlds don't just become real, right? Right. So, the only other explanations would be that I've either gone crazy, or this is all a dream I'll wake up from eventually. I'll go with the second, since it's much easier to believe.__

            Convincing myself that I would awake from this dream sometime in the near future, I settled in for the night, which was kind of ironic, sleeping while you're sleeping. But that awakening did not come. 

            I waited for weeks. Months. Almost a year had passed by the time I figured out I wasn't going to wake up. By that time, I had gotten a part-time job since obviously, Gotham didn't care whether you were sixteen with a work permit or not, just so long as you can _do_ the work. I was still trying to convince myself that I had been put in a coma by the electric shock of the television while walking home from the night shift at a deli about three blocks from my 'house.' Which, need I remind you, is not the smartest thing to do when you 'live' in a city that has an _extremely_ high crime rate and it is eleven-thirty at night.

            Without warning, a thug jumped out in front of me from an alleyway that I hadn't noticed before. He was wearing a worn leather vest on top of a tattered white wife-beater, showing off a well developed six-pack. Faded blue jeans adorned his muscled legs and he grinned at me, his sickly yellow teeth clashing horribly with the dark skin tone that covered his whole body.

            "Got any money, sweetheart?"

            I gnashed my own teeth, reminding myself that provoking a man who looked like he took steroids from birth was not a good idea.

            "If I give you all my money, will you refrain from harming me?"

            "Yeah, I'll do that, and I won't hurt ya none neither."

            I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, but dug into the backpack that I carried with me for my last week's paycheck. Then, on a whim, I started to run the opposite way, back toward the deli. If I was lucky, the manager would still be there, closing up. Unfortunately for me, thugs never travel alone. This meant that there was another guy in back of me, looking very much like the first, except for his much paler skin tone.

            "Y-you said you wouldn't hurt me."

            Thug One laughed behind me as I eyed Thug Two.

            "Well, I don' think I got my money, now do I hon? Now, fork it over or me and my bud might have t' get violent."

            After that statement, I did possibly the _stupidest_ thing I could have done at the moment. I ran. 

* * * * *


	2. Jolted Awake

            I could hear both of them running to catch up to me. Having no where else to run, I had darted out from between the thugs, surprising them and giving me a head start. But, I wasn't on the track team for a good reason. I began to look for a place to hide. No luck. There weren't any twenty-hour stores, and any alleyway I went into most likely had a dead end. Forgetting this very important fact for a minute, I ducked into an alley and the thugs followed me. I kept running until I saw the brick wall in front of me, which is when I turned slowly around, seeing their maniac grins as they realized I had nowhere to go.

            "Shouldn' a run, girly. Now we gotta get _violent_ on ya'."

            I backed into the wall as Thug Two came up and pressed a knife to my throat, eyeing my figure. As I breathed heavily, cursing the fact that I matured faster than my peers, Thug One walked up to my side and ripped off my backpack, leaving a thin cut down my left arm. I hissed, but they took no notice as one was hungrily taking in the skin bared by my tight, black tank top and the other was shaking my pack upside-down for anything that might resemble money.

            All that came out were two buttons, a bus pass, and . . . . _damn__, a fifty-dollar bill that was my pay for the month.(A/n: I know, her pay sucks, but so does her job. Deal with it.) I groaned and One smiled at me, coming closer._

            "This all ya' got? Maybe we should . . . rough her up a bit, eh Joe?"

            Two had a name now.

            "Sure, why not Spike, we ain't had much fun in a while."

            I tensed as I realized what they were talking about. Rape. The knife was lowered from my neck, and I looked at them critically.

            "Aw, babe, what fun is it if ya' look like ya' just came out the beauty parlor?" asked 'Joe'. 'Spike' nodded, took the knife from Joe, and approached. I crouched, but he laughed, reaching down and cutting the strap that held the right side of my shirt in place. It didn't fall all the way down, but the right side drooped noticeably. Now, if I turned around quickly, or even tried to walk normally, my bra would be visible. A _large _portion of it, which I was not eager to show these guys. I tried to pull the right side up, but failed, and just put my left arm up to cover it. They chuckled.

            "So, who's goin' first, then?" asked Joe. Spike got an indignant look on his face.

            "I am course! I got her in the first place. 'Sides, this'll be my first brunette in a month."

            "It was my knife!"

            "I'm the leader!"

            "Not for long you're not." This voice came from above, and all three of us looked up. A figure was perched on the left-hand side building edge, and with a sinking feeling, I (and the thugs) realized who it was. Joe was the first to come out of shock.

            "It's the Bat! Who cares about the chick, let's get outta' here!"  Both Joe and Spike took off running, but if I knew Batman (which I reminded myself that it is not a good thing to know a comic book character) he wouldn't let them get away. He disappeared from my vision. Not five seconds had passed when I heard muffled sounds of fighting from around the corner. Then. . . .silence. By now, I was huddled on the ground, arms wrapped around my knees, head bowed toward the ground, shivering. A shadow fell over me, and I grudgingly looked up. But when I did, there was nothing there but my bag and the possessions that had been shaken out. As I put my things back and set off for home, I got the eerie feeling I was being watched. The scary thing was, I knew who was watching.

* * * * *  

            Soon I got over my encounter with 'The Bat.' Convincing myself that I was in a coma was even harder now that I had actually _seen Batman. I mean, it's not every day that you come into contact with a super hero, right? And, before, I had thought of possibly going to see 'Bruce Wayne', since he had the Batcave and all that. But now that I had seen 'Batman' in action, I couldn't go through with it.  _

            At school, I mostly kept to myself since I literally knew no one. My classes were cake because it seemed as though 'Gotham' were years behind the real world. Ninth grade was easy. But still, something was wrong. It was as if my home life were perfect. 

            My parents never argued about anything, and we were pretty well off, considering I had no idea where the money was coming from. Heck, my dad could be a _hit man and I wouldn't have a clue. Nevertheless, he always appeared happy, so whatever he was doing, it looked to be working for him._

            After a couple more weeks in my dream world, they turned into months and I started to break down. I couldn't take the fantasy anymore; it was tearing me apart. Every other day on the news there was something about the famous 'Batman', and it was messing me up inside to have to pretend that it was real and not scream out 'He's a comic book character!'. I wanted out; I wanted reality; I wanted anything but what I was going through. There was one final thing that made me do something reckless during feelings of desperation. One thing that made me risk it all.

            We had an assembly scheduled for that Friday morning in school. No one knew what it was about; just that it got it out of class. Nine o'clock was the time everything changed. 

            As we filed into the bleachers of the gym, I had a horrible feeling of something going wrong. Like I was on the Titanic, but not knowing about anything that was going to happen. Everyone sat down, waiting for the thing that got us out of class that early in the morning. The principal stepped up to the oak podium and began to talk.

            "Students, we are gathered here today to witness a momentous occasion! The school has received a donation, allowing us to upgrade many resources, including computers, textbooks, and many other things we haven't had the money for until now. Let me welcome our generous sponsor, Mr. Bruce Wayne!"

* * * * *  

            I froze, my eyes staring straight ahead. Because I knew something these people didn't. The kids on either side of me didn't notice anything, as they were clapping. He was here? Why?  Of course, my common sense told me that he was just making a donation to the school. But in my shocked state, I was convinced that he was looking for me. I tried to look like this didn't phase me, like I was just another kid, like I _didn't know Batman and Bruce Wayne were the same person._

            But then something happened that just made me crack. It was when the principal said, 

            "Why don't we have one of you students come up here and say something to thank Mr. Wayne? Speak for the whole school!"

            A bunch of kids raised their hands, but I got a feeling that he was looking for someone who wasn't very enthusiastic. Someone like me. And, unfortunately, that feeling was right.

            "Marissa Brockford! Come on up!"

            I could feel the eyes on me. Slowly, I got up from my seat in the bleachers and walked toward the stage, the principal, and Bruce Wayne. Oh, by the way, did I mention that was my impending doom as well? Anyway, I finally made my way up there. Both the principal and Bruce were wearing big smiles.

            "Go ahead, say something!" urged my principal. I put on a fake smile, trembling slightly, and stepped up to the podium as he had done.

            "I think that we are all grateful for Mr. Wayne's donation. It will hopefully make things more interesting around here by giving us more resources as previously stated by our principal. I am especially thankful for what you have done Mr. Wayne, because," here I looked him in the eye, and I saw his eyes flash . . . he knew that I knew; I hurried up, "I love to learn. I hope others benefit as much as I will from this donation." 

            There was clapping and I hurried back to my seat. The principal kept talking, but I didn't listen. Because I had a bigger problem. One that I would solve in a way only a desperate fifteen-year-old could think of. If you have a problem, expose it to everyone in hopes of finding a solution. So the next day, that's exactly what I did.

                                                            * * * * *

C'mon. Push that little button, right down there to the left. You knooooooooooooooooooow you waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaant to. Oh, and points to someone who can tell me where I'm going with the chapter names. It's not that hard. 


	3. The Secret's Out Or Going To Be, Anyw...

A/N: I usually don't respond to reviews (I'm sorry, but I think it takes too much time), but I will answer DesertRose-6. In the Justice League animated series, which I'm basing this off of, they don't show Batman's sidekick. Read the review board, someone there told me all about it. Kapeesh?

           The building was bigger than I thought, but I summoned up all the courage I had and walked in, wearing baggy blue jean shorts, a tan plaid button up men's shirt, and black tennishoes. Over all of this I also wore a long brown trench coat and a baseball cap drawn low, to try and disguise myself even more. The sign above my head read: Gotham News. (A/n: Sorry if there is actually is a newspaper; I don't know the name of it.) 

            I followed some signs to the editor's office. Taking a deep breath, I knocked. The door opened to a man who looked to be in his late thirties through early forties, with short, wiry, brown hair, wearing a dark blue dress shirt, light blue tie, and black dress pants. Caucasian; he looked around with sky blue eyes once to see if anyone was watching, then motioned for me to come in.

             I had called him the day before to say that I had something that would change the world. Amazingly, even though he knew my age, he agreed to meet me because news was slow at that time. I told him what I'd be wearing so he'd know it was me. Now, I sat in front of his desk as he paced behind it.

            "So? What information do you have that will 'change the world'?" he asked with a hint of sarcasm.

            I took another deep breath, lowered my voice, then replied, 

            "I can tell you the identities of the Justice League."

            There was silence for about two minutes.

            "How do I know that you will be telling the truth?" The sarcasm was gone, replaced with complete seriousness.

            I paused.

            "You don't. But you may not get another chance like this. If you won't print my story, I'll just leave and take the information with me. What do you say?"

            More silence.

            "Okay.  I know all you secretive types have demands, and as much as it pains me to say this . . . what are your demands?"

            "My demands are simple. First of all, I want to tell you in a secluded area far away, so there is no chance of the information leaking out before you publish it. Second of all, after I give you what you want, I don't get mentioned. I am an anonymous source, which is why I have not told you my name. And last, also after I give you the info, you are not to come looking for me. I will disappear. Got it?"

            He nodded, visibly relieved that he didn't have to pay me anything. I didn't care about money; I just wanted to get it off my chest.

            "Good. Then let us meet tomorrow to go somewhere where you can get your info, and I can disappear into nothingness. Is noon good for you?"

            He nodded again, stopped his pacing, sat down, and stuck out his hand for me to shake.

            "I can't express my gratitude at you willingness to share this with me. This will up our publicity greatly."

            I shook his hand, got up, and left with a lighter heart. I arrived at my house and trudged up to my room. But as soon as I got there, I felt like I was drifting away; lighter than air. I fell backwards on my bed and closed my eyes. After that, I knew nothing.

* * * * *

            Batman had called an emergency meeting of the Justice League. He didn't say what about, just that everyone needed to get to the Watchtower as soon as possible. When everyone gathered in the meeting room, he went over to the computer, typed a bit on the keyboard, and a picture of a young girl popped up.

            She looked to be a Caucasian teenager, maybe fourteen or fifteen, with shoulder length dark brown hair. Her style of clothing was obvious; punk rocker. In the picture, she was leaning on her right leg with her arms crossed over her chest and one eyebrow raised. Two words were next to her head in black, bold script. Marissa Brockford.

            "Wait, wait, wait a minute," said Flash, "you called us up here to check out the chicks of Gotham?"

            Batman stared at him and he said no more.

            "This girl knows my identity. I don't know how, but what I _do know is that she was going to release it to the press. Currently, she is in my bedroom (Flash's eyes widened, but he stayed silent) here, on the Watchtower, slowly coming out of sleep induced by sleeping gas. I am debating whether to interrogate her or just not let her go back to Earth."_

            "What about her parents?" asked Superman.

            "Oddly enough, they seem not to notice the disappearance of their only child. They go about their business as usual. I don't think they'll notice she's gone unless someone tells them."

            "Her friends?" inquired Green Lantern, raising an eyebrow. "Surely _they must notice her absence."_

            "No friends."

            "So what are we going to do about this?" questioned Hawkgirl. "She can't stay here forever. This is _not_ an orphanage."

            "Of course not. I'm going to go talk to her about it as soon as she wakes up."

            "Batman," said Wonder Woman, pointing to the computer, which had video feed from every room, "she is stirring."

            He swooped out the door like his namesake, cape swirling behind him.

* * * * *

            When I 'woke' up, it was definitely _not _in my bedroom. I was in a small, darkened room with no lights whatsoever. Whoever had taken me had put me on a large bed and a placed a single sheet over my body. My trench coat and baseball cap were gone.

            I sat up gasping, adrenaline rushing through my veins. There was a sound like a door opening, then closing again. Feeling around, I tried to find a light switch, or at least a lamp.

            "The lights won't turn on until I want them to." came a deep voice from seemingly nowhere. I gulped and clutched the sheet closer. Trying not to sound_ too scared, I asked,_

            "Who's there?"

            Silence. Then . . . *WHOOSH*         

            "Don't you know?"

            I gave a little yelp, because now the voice rumbled deeply right next to my left ear. I scooted over on the bed, trying to get away. Unfortunately, that's not the best idea when you don't know where the edge of the bed is. Falling off and spinning, I landed hard on my butt, twisting the sheet around my torso and getting the wind knocked out of me. More silence.

            "Should I?"  Of course, by now I had pretty much guessed who it was. What puzzled was: how Batman got into my room, how I got knocked out, and why Batman was paying particular attention to _me._

            "Don't answer questions with questions. It's not polite."

            "Then why did you do it?"

            The lights flipped on, making me shield my eyes with my arms because of the sudden brightness.

            "Enough with the games, Brockford. How did you find out?"

            Lowering my arms, I saw Batman standing, in full uniform at the foot of the bed, glowering at me, obviously displeased that I knew his secret. Or maybe he was just annoyed that I fell off the bed.

            Anyway, since the lights were on, I could inspect the room. The reason there was no light coming from the outside was because the shades were drawn. _Wait a minute. There should still be light from the street lights shining through the cracks in the blinds, shouldn't there? Forgetting for a second about the huge, muscled man staring at me, I scrambled up, across the bed, and over to the window. I yanked up the blinds to see . . . blackness. Space. That meant . . . that I was in the Watchtower. _

            I fell back onto the black carpet of the almost bare room, stunned. This was serious if I was brought _there.  _I mean, me, a normal human, not one of the Justice League, brought to the Justice League Headquarters. Wow.

            There was a knock at the door. Our heads turned simultaneously toward it. 

            "Hey Bats! Big Blue wants ta' know if ya've scared the answers outta the chick yet so we can chuck 'er back ta' Earth!"   

            Flash.

            Batman's face remained motionless, but his eyes narrowed in the slightest. I snickered and said,

            "That's Wally for you. Spill the plan."

            His eyes widened under his mask; I clapped a hand over my mouth. I had forgotten that he thought I only knew _his _civilian identity. _Crap._ Without taking his eyes off me, he said to the door,

            "Flash, I think we're going to need to have another meeting. Some new information has just come to my attention."

            "Okay! I'll go tell Supes!" 

            But before he could race away, Batman said,        

            "No, you stay here with her. I'll go."

            "If you're sure."

            The door opened and Flash raced in. Batman stalked out like someone who had just been told their dog was shot, closing the door behind him. I turned my head to look out the window again; into the vastness of space. Flash didn't talk for a while. Then, 

            "What's so interesting out there? Some new super villain tryin' ta' blow us up or somethin'?" He zipped over to stand next to me and stared out into space as well. "I don't see anything." Silence. "How'd you find out whatever is so important, anyway?"

            I gave him a puzzled look. He understood.

            "Everyone just told me that you had found out some really important stuff, so you needed to be brought up here for questioning. They won't tell me any more, cause they think I'll blab it all to someone who's not supposed to know. What do you think?"

            I just stared.

            "Not much of a talker, are you? Maybe that's why Bats couldn't get much. Usually when he interrogates people, they're wettin their pants by the second minute. Somethin about that guy just makes me want ta run and not stop, ya know?"

            I giggled a bit. Flash smiled. Someone cleared their throat behind us. Our heads whipped around in unison. Green Lantern was standing in the doorway, arms crossed across his chest. He looked me in the eye.

            "You're to come with me. Flash, you follow behind."

            As I followed him to wherever it was we were going, I muttered,

            "_Someone is grumpy today. Like I'm going to try and escape from something orbiting the Earth. Yeah, that'd be smart. Hey, GL, ever think about getting color contacts? I mean, green is cool and all, but your eyes _glow _man, and there aren't any pupils. It's just plain creepy. You–"_

            He turned around and glared straight into my wide eyes that were green as well, but mine _had_ pupils. I stopped talking and simply whispered, 

            "Shutting up now."

            He turned back around and we kept walking, in silence, unlike before. After what seemed like at least half an hour, he stopped at a door. It opened on its own to reveal a long table with the remaining members of the Justice League; Hawkgirl, Superman, J'onn J'onzz, Batman, and Wonder Woman; talking about and discussing . . . well . . . I think it was me. As the door closed behind the three of us, everyone refocused their attention. Then Batman broke the silence by saying,

            "That's her."

                                                            * * * * *


	4. Talking, Or Something Like It

            I rolled my eyes, thinking, _No, I'm a new super hero who wants to join you and threatened to tell your identities to the world just for your attention. Who else would I be but 'her'?_ J'onn's left eyeridge (A/n: He doesn't _have eyebrows) quirked a bit and I cast my own down. I had forgotten that he was a telepath, and when being questioned by the most powerful people in the world, sarcasm is not the best choice._

            Before I could blink, I felt another whoosh of air, and Flash was no longer behind to me, so I assumed he was sitting. Remember that my eyes were on the floor at the moment. Green Lantern also took his seat, or at least that's what I thought. My thought was confirmed when I looked up from the floor. The only one left standing was me. I was also the person everyone had put their eyes on. I couldn't stand looking them in the eye, so I surrendered to the instinct that told me to stare at the floor once again. It was quiet again for a while. _I wish somebody would say something! I thought frantically._

            _Why don't you? came another thought voice. I gasped quietly, so everyone wouldn't hear me._

            _J'onn?_

            _Though I know not how you came by my name, yes._

_            If I tell the truth, no one will believe me. It's way too crazy. I'm not even sure that it's true._

            _We have three aliens in the Justice League, and we have fought aliens before. We have dealt with magic, mythology, alternate realities, and many other things. I think we can try and understand one lost girl's story._

            _You keep on thinking that, J'onn, but by the time I'm done, you'll want to put me in the crazy category. Trust me._

_            I am not so sure about that. Batman was skeptical when he heard my story, and yet now we fight side by side._

_            First of all, Bru–, Batman is skeptical about everything. Second of all, even though I don't know how old you are, you appear older than I. I think Batman trusts older people more than hormone high teenagers._

            _This is true. But will you at least give it a try?_

            I sighed, and thought nothing more, ending our 'conversation'. Superman spoke up for the first time.

            "How much do you know?"

            I opened my mouth to say something sarcastic, something that would just make them madder, but J'onn caught my eye as I looked to him after glancing at Superman. He shook his head in the slightest, so you could only catch it if you were watching really closely. I nodded gently back, and took a deep breath as I looked around at each of them.

            "I know the civilian identities of everyone in this room who has one."  

* * * * *  

            There was a lot of silence after _that _statement. Then Superman broke it once again saying, 

            "How do we know you're not bluffing?"

            "You want me to tell everyone _yours_ and see if I'm bluffing? Would _Batman _have brought me up to the _Watchtower_ if I was bluffing?" I asked, stepping forward a bit.

            "Even he makes mistakes," Superman replied, ignoring my first remark.

            "Then why don't you ask him what he thinks?"

            "They already have," said Batman. I turned my eyes to him. He gave me a glare through the mask and I took a step back because of it.

            "I have no need to fear my identity being revealed, for everyone here knows it. So I shall ask. Where did you come upon this information, if you have it at all?"

            This demand came from Diana, better known as Wonder Woman. I looked at the floor; this subject was one with which I was uneasy. I didn't answer for a while.

            "Are you going to answer, or will I have to force it out of you?" asked Hawkgirl, standing up and powering her mace.

            "Whoa! Calm down Sha–, Hawkgirl. I was going to answer, but you wouldn't–"

            "What were you going to say?"

            "Huh?"

            "Before you said Hawkgirl, what were you going to say?"

            My heart beat a little faster, and I backed up more.

            "Nothing. Hey look! It's Brainiac!" I shouted, pointing out the window. Amazingly, everyone turned their head to look. (A/n: Sorry, this is probably a really stupid way to get their attention off of her, but I couldn't think of another villain. Review if you have one and I'll change it.) I whipped around quickly and pushed the button to make the door open. Rushing through, it shut behind me and I ran as fast as I could ever remember running. If I could just get to the docking bay before Flash could get out the meeting room door, then I was sure I could put a ship on auto pilot or something.

            I ran blindly, not knowing where I was going; only knowing that I had to get away, and fast. Finally, I saw a door on my left that was labeled 'Docking Bay'. I dashed inside and was almost to the Javelin-7 (a/n: Is that right?) when I felt that familiar whoosh of air, which whipped my shoulder length brown hair around. I groaned.

            Flash appeared in my path, blocking the way. I chuckled weakly.

            "Heh, heh. Anyone ever tell you that your hallways are kinda dirty?" I said backing up.

            "Maybe that's what I was supposed to do Saturday . . ." Flash trailed off with a faraway look. I realized that he was actually thinking hard about my comment, and this might be my only chance to leave. Dashing for a ship that _wasn't blocked by Flash, I reached for the knob . . . and my hand stopped. In midair. In fact, my whole body seemed like it was frozen except for my head. I turned it to look down, and saw the telltale green glow that trademarked the person who had caught me. Green Lantern._

            I felt myself floating backward and upward until I was turned around to face the whole Justice League, including Flash who had obviously finished thinking.

            "Heh, heh. Hi." Then I muttered under my breath, "That's not natural. But Oak Express is."(A/n: You won't get this unless you've seen the 'Oak Express' commercial this is from.) I said aloud, "Aren't you wasting your ring's power by keeping me suspended?"

            "You know something, you're actually right for once," replied Green Lantern, turning off his ring while I was in the air, resulting in me falling face down onto the concrete from ten feet up. Luckily, I stuck my arms in front of my face so only _they_ got scratched up.

            "Ow."

            "Green Lantern, was that really necessary?" I heard Superman ask him. After all, I couldn't _see_ them if I was eating gravel. It was also at that time that I wondered why no one had caught me. I mean, they got a guy who runs as fast as light and an alien who is almost as fast as _him._

            "No. But it was satisfying."

            Superman sighed. Or at least, I think that was him. I raised my head up, rolled over and stood, brushing my arms off as I did so. Everyone gave me a piercing glare. I cringed and took a step backward.

            "We need to have a talk," said Superman.

            "But Daddy, I don't _want _to hear about the birds and the bees," I mumbled under my breath as I tried to look everywhere but in their eyes. No one laughed, but that might have been because no one heard me. "Yeah, yeah, I knew this would come sooner or later. Just don't send me to the looney bin straight away, okay?"

            They all gave me strange looks. I merely shook my head and kept quiet.

~*~

            They took me back to the meeting room, this time with GL guarding the door. Superman led me gently but firmly over to a chair and pushed on my shoulders, forcing me to sit. The chair was turned away from the table, so everyone except GL formed a semi-circle around me, with Superman looking over from behind. Batman was standing straight across from me.

            "Talk."

            _Speak, sit, shake, roll over. What am I, a dog?_

"Couldn't I write it down?" I asked in a 'half-joking/half-serious' tone. He stared at me and I winced a bit. "Fine, but you're not going to believe me."

            "Let us be the judge of that," replied J'onn. I sighed and looked at the ground once more.

            "Okay. Almost one year ago, I was watching TV with my parents. Everything is normal so far, right? Here's the catch. In my mind, you guys aren't supposed to exist."

            "Why not?" asked Flash, resembling a little kid who always asked 'why'. I sighed again.

            "Because I when I was watching TV, I was watching your cartoon. To me, _you are all fictional."_

            "That's crazy!" exploded Hawkgirl. "How do you really know our identities?"

            I tried to scoot back from her unsuccessfully, one reason being that 'The Man of Steel' was standing behind me, and the second reason being that behind him was the table. Giving up, I only stared at and fiddled with my fingers. _This is exactly why I wanted to make up an explanation, instead of telling them the real reason. J'onn, why did I listen to you?_

_            I may be a telepath, but that I cannot tell you. _ I sighed while the 'Justice League' argued over me. I'll just label the random outbursts that happened, so you don't get confused.

            Superman: "Hawkgirl, calm down!"

            Hawkgirl: "I've had enough of this approach! I want to do it my way!"

            Green Lantern: "I agree with Hawkgirl for once! Let's force it out of her!" (He was still standing by the door, but had decided to join in the conversation from there.)

            Wonder Woman: "No, we must be calm! If we use force, we will get less than we wish. (Here I thought I might actually have hope.)

            Batman: . . . (What, you expected him to say something?)

            Flash: "Maybe she really _is_ crazy. You know, there _are _a lot of crazy people on Earth. Besides won't her pare—"

            Green Lantern: "Shut up, Flash!"

            They continued to bicker, but when Flash was cut off by GL, he was about to make a valid point. Wouldn't my parents wonder where I was? When they found out I was missing, would they call the police? What would happen when I was brought back by the Justice League?

            I rubbed my hands together faster and faster, something I tend to do when I'm nervous. No one noticed . . . except for Batman. He saw that my breathing got labored, and I started to look around a lot more. At this time, I was panicking. It might sound normal to you, but when I panicked, it was more severe than any one else. I was on medication and took yoga for it to calm my nerves, but it still came out in full whenever something really big happened that stressed me. (A/N: I think this is a real condition, so sorry to anyone who knows anything about it. I probably got something wrong.)

            Batman's eyes narrowed as he surveyed my condition. He was paying no attention whatsoever to the argument going on around us; it had somehow been changed to the topic of Flash's outfit.

            Meanwhile, GL had moved away from the doorway, giving me what I thought was the perfect exit. I darted out between Flash and GL who were so busy arguing that they paid no mind to me. Batman, however, was watching me very closely, as was J'onn who wanted to know why Batman was not speaking his opinion.

            As soon as I reached the door, Batman had pushed through everyone else and grabbed me from behind by the shoulders. He wrapped his arms around me just so, so that my upper arms were pinned and all that were free were my legs. Boy, did I use my legs. I wouldn't give it a moments rest trying to get out of his clutches. You have to remember, when I panic, I don't think straight. That was why I was trying to get away from a man who was a _lot _stronger than me and would probably not get any weaker any time soon,

            "Get me a sedative!" yelled Batman, trying to get me to stop wiggling. J'onn disappeared and reappeared in about one minute with a long needle. At the sight of that, my eyes widened and my wiggling increased greatly.

            "NQ! No! My parents! I'll be in trouble! They don't like that! Don't –"but I was cut off, because the sedative had just taken effect, making me drift off into unconsciousness once more.

* * * * * 


	5. Pissing Off Superman

When I 'woke up' (for the second time that day), it was like coming out of a deep sleep, and I realized what had happened to cause that. I also realized that there was a red blob hovering over my head, blocking my view of the ceiling. As my vision focused, I could see that Flash was standing over me. He saw that I was awake and his eyes widened.

            "Hey GL, she's awake!"

            Green Lantern walked in from the hallway, also with a look of surprise on his face.

            "Flash, go get Superman and Batman. They need to have another talk with her. I'll stand guard, since you _obviously_ can't do it right."

            Flash nodded and took off, not noticing that he had just been insulted. Maybe he was used to it, though. After all, he and GL _were_ fighting all the time. Speaking of Green Lantern, he was looking at me funny. Like I had just performed a miracle or something. Weird.

            I took in my surroundings and saw that I was in the medical bay. _Wait a minute, why didn't they just take me back to that little room? Is there something wrong with me that I can't see? Was I allergic to the sedative? What happened? Luckily (or unluckily, depending on how you look at it), Superman and Batman entered at that time, giving me no more opportunities to cloud my head with questions that probably wouldn't be answered anyway. _

            Green Lantern left, leaving me with what I considered to be the two strongest (or influential, in Bruce's case) members of the Justice League. Now what did they want to talk to me about?

            Batman stood to my right, while Superman was on my left. For a couple of minutes, it was silent. Then I broke it by saying (while looking down of course, like I was going to look into their eyes), 

            "You guys gonna talk, or just stand there like trees?" _Big, muscled trees, I reminded myself. __Trees that can beat me to a pulp; more like mutant trees, if you ask me._ Maybe that wasn't a good comparison after all. _But I was cut off from further musing as Batman said, completely ignoring my remark,_

            "What happened back there, Marissa?"

            I stiffened, because he had used my first name. Looking up but not into their eyes, I managed to confirm that no one else was around. I looked back down and started to fiddle with my fingers. _Well, it's okay if I say it here, 'cause __Clark__ already knows._

"Don't you know the symptoms of a panic attack when you see them, Bruce?" I muttered so softly that I wasn't sure he had heard me. There was no reply from him for a long while.

            "No, Marissa, I'm afraid he doesn't, and neither do I," said Superman.

            "So I take it no one in Smallville had panic attacks, did they Clark?"

            That shut him up as well.

            "I don't know what you came to talk to me about. I've told you all I know, unless there's some information that has been suppressed in my memory banks that I don't know about."

            "On the contrary Marissa, there are many memories you don't know about. And some information that might be essential. Would you like me to help you recover them?"

            J'onn had just phased into the room through . . . _something _(I didn't hear the door open), and was now looking at me. I didn't _see him of course, but I could feel his unwavering gaze._

            "That's gonna be a '_no_', Mr. Martian, sir. Hey, have you ever met Bugs Bunny?" The last part I said under my breath, but I think they all heard me anyway. Ignoring that remark, as they all did with my sarcasm, Superman said,

            "Why didn't you tell us that you had these? We would have taken you to some place where one of us could talk to you at a time, instead of all of us making you feel stressed."

            _Oh, that makes me feel a lot better. Right, Batman interrogating me on his own, no one else. That would be just wonderful. I decided to change the topic. Sort of._

            "If you had interrogated me on your own, all of you having a turn, I'm sure that Hawkgirl would use some . . . _extreme measures. You three saw what she was going to do back in the meeting room."_

            "Hawkgirl's actions are not on trial here," replied J'onn, "but your own for not informing us of these 'panic attacks'." _Damn, thought I could steer them away from that direction of conversation.  _

            "I agree with J'onn. You should have told us. We wouldn't have been forced to use the sedative if we had known not to act like that in the first place." Batman. _So I'm being reprimanded by my kidnapper? For not telling him about my medical history? This is starting to piss me off._

"So, when should I have told you? When all of you saw me for the first time, and neglected to give me a chance to explain? Or when I was face down on the ground, courtesy of Green Lantern dropping me there, not to mention that someone could have _caught me!_" The last part I sort of semi-shouted while looking up at the trio. Oh yes, I was pissed. "Excuse me if I don't think I should share my _personal life with my _kidnappers!_ Considering the way I've been _treated_, I don't think I 'should have told' _you _lot _any_thing!" I finished my rant and glared at them all. Batman didn't look fazed (when does he ever, and how could you tell with the mask on?), J'onn just had his neutral expression on, but Superman looked a little guilty. I crossed my arms and looked down once again, choosing instead to stare at the blanket that covered my lower half then the beings which confronted me at that time. Batman spoke once more._

            "The first time we saw you, you tried to trick us so that you could escape. You didn't give _yourself _a chance to explain. You were dropped on the ground with no one catching you because we were still all too stunned to do anything. Don't tell me you would have wanted to be caught by Flash?"

            Despite my mood, the corners of my mouth started to twitch, almost making me smile. I looked up at them once more.

            "Further more, the only reason we 'kidnapped' you was so we could make sure you didn't release our identities to the press!"  __

"What?!" cried Superman. Obviously he hadn't told them that bit yet. _Damn, there goes the beginning of my good mood. Superman turned to from Batman, who he had been paying attention to while he was talking, to me, eyes barely containing his rage. "You were going to tell the whole world our identities?! Do you know how much of a disaster that would be? New villains wouldn't have to hurt us, they would just need to find out who was close to us and hurt them! Why would you do that?" ___

            "It seemed like a good idea at the time," I muttered, feeling a whole lot smaller than I did five minutes before. This seemed to make him even angrier.

            "'A good idea at the time'?! That's just typical for . . . "he trailed off; I didn't hear what he said.

            "Sorry? I couldn't hear the last part. Say again?"

            "I said that _your _kind of behavior is typical for _teenagers._" _Whoa bud, wrong thing to say. Definitely. Forgetting for the moment that all of these men (well, two men and a Martian) could restrain me and/or beat me to a bloody pulp, I jumped out of the bed and walked straight up to Superman. While I talked, I poked him in the chest to enunciate my point._

            "Look here, _Superman_, (_poke) don't you go blaming this on __my (poke) age group unless you have __proof. (poke) Do you remember how the __teenage (poke) mind (poke) works? (_poke_) We don't know how to _solve _(poke) problems! So tell me, what would _you (poke) _have done?" I finished, crossing my arms over my chest and waiting for him to speak. _

            Except that he spoke not, only glaring at me a final time and whirling around, his cape fluttering suspiciously like Batman's as he stalked out the door. 

            "Hey Bats, has he been takin' walkin' classes from you or what?" I mumbled, staring at the doorway. 

            Batman stared at me, his mask not giving away any emotion, and walked calmly (unlike the person before him) out the door after Superman. 

            I sighed and plopped back down onto the bed, leaning over and putting my face in my hands. _Man, I screwed up big time, didn't I. What is it with men and conversations? If they're right, they're fine, but if they're wrong they back out of it staring at you. I'll never get males, even if I live forever. _I felt a hand on my shoulder, but, I knew who it was; I didn't raise my head from its position.

            "It's not your fault you know," said J'onn. I shook my head and kept silent. "They will 'come around', as you say. It will just take time. Believe it or not, I know how you feel. No one accepted my story as true when I knew that it was. I had to deal with their mistrust until they finally believed me."

            "Yeah, but they _had _to believe you to save the earth and all. You were the only one who knew how to defeat the aliens."

            He showed no shock that I knew of his imprisonment, and simply said,

            "Give it time."  With that, his hand left my shoulder and I assumed he had left the room. I flopped back onto the not entirely uncomfortable hospital bed, contemplating the conversations I had taken part in that day. Then, having nothing else to do, I fell into a deep, non-drug induced sleep, free from Martians and muscled men in spandex.

* * * * * 


	6. Realizing

I was awoken by voices talking, presumably in the hallway, since they were somewhat muffled. Only hearing snatches of the conversation, I was understandably confused. But what I could discern was exactly _who _was talking. Batman and Superman.

            "Clark . . . down . . . she . . . can't . . . mad . . . forever."

            "Of . . . Bruce . . . send . . . to . . . planet . . . parents?"

            I stopped listening after I heard Superman say parents. I was surprised that my heart kept beating. My parents. What would they say? I mean, these parents (I had assumed since the world was different, I also had parents who differed from the old ones) seemed oblivious to everything around them, but were they really _that _dense?

            My eyes opened and I stared at the ceiling. The voices stopped; I heard footsteps leading away from the medical bay. I sighed and sat up. _Who knew Superman would get so worked up from my outburst? __It's not like I insulted his family or anything. I hoped he wouldn't be _too _mad at me when I next saw him. Pulling back the covers of the hospitable bed (someone must have put me under them); I swung my feet onto the floor and tested them. Walkable. _Is that a word?_ I smiled at my silliness, then froze. That wasn't my thought voice._

            _J'onn? Why are you in my mind?_

_            In your current situation, I think I am the only member of the Justice League you want to talk to. No, wait, that is not true. There is always Flash._

_            Did the Martian just make a joke?_

_            Did the human just deal with a confrontation in the wrong way?_

I hung my head, a melancholy mood overcoming my being.

            _Where are you, anyway? I inquired, trying to change the topic._

            "Behind you," he spoke aloud, and I jumped, literally, off the bed to turn around and face him.

            "How long have you been there?"

            " . . . Long enough to know that you were awake long before your eyes opened."

            My eyes narrowed.

            "Which is how long, exactly?"

            He looked like he didn't want to admit something.

            " . . .  Ever since you fell asleep."

            My eyes narrowed further.

            "Let me guess. You got stuck with guard duty to make sure the 'threat to the Justice League' didn't try and escape."

            He shook his head.

            "No, Batman is guarding the hanger and Green Lantern is outside the door. _I wanted to make sure that the girl with the tough exterior didn't have a crumbling interior to match."_

            "Why do you care about me? I could shut down the whole Justice League and then you wouldn't have anywhere to go."

            He hesitated.

            "It . . . it has been a while since I have come into such close contact with someone of your age. I feel . . . obligated to help you. The last time I saw someone of your generation . . . it has been a while." He ended by repeating what he said in the first place. I realized he was talking about his children, and looked down to give him a moment of silence for his loved ones. 

            Scuffing my dark black tennishoe lightly on the tile floor, I tucked my hands behind my back. A single bang fell in front of my face; I blew at it. It fell back; I frowned and blew at it again. The bang just wouldn't stay put. Finally, I gave up and reached into my pocket to get my navy blue hair scrunchie. I put my hair in a ponytail, but that one bang was just short enough that it fell in front of my face, refusing to be captured. I sighed, silently knowing that I would never get it. There was a chuckle from J'onn. I looked up to see him studying me, and suspected that he had seen the whole thing. Rolling my eyes, I sat back down on the bed, knowing that if I set one foot out the door, I would be back in faster than I could say Gotham.

            "So . . ." I mumbled, anxious to break the silence, "is Cl--, Superman coming to talk to me?"

            "I don't know; he might need some time. After all, he just found out that you would have revealed his identity to the world. That may take some getting used to."

            "What was I supposed to do? Be happy and excited and perky that I'm living in a world that doesn't exist? Pfft. Yeah, right."

            Though deep inside, I knew that I wasn't _really _going to reveal their identities to the world, I still felt the need to defend my actions. After all, what would _you _have done? I sighed. _Maybe it is real after all. Besides, I feel emotions, and the people here don't seem to be emotionless either. Maybe . . . just maybe I can get used to this. It could be an alternate Earth or something like that anyway._

"You _could have tried to contact us. I'm sure we would have done something. And, I'm also sure that your trip up here would have been more comfortable and . . . prepared."_

            I smiled, taking in his words. J'onn made me feel better, like the brother that I never had. If the brother that I never had was a green, Martian, shape-shifter who fights crime for a living.

* * * * * 

            It was two days after the whole 'Superman' episode. He still wasn't talking to me, even though I kept seeking him out. Personally, I thought he was acting more like a kid at my school (new or old) than a superhero.

            At the moment, I was sitting in the kitchen of the Watchtower, staring out into space, thinking. They hadn't allowed me to go back to Earth, but they _had put one of the Justice League guarding the docking bay at all times, as I found out one of the nights I tried to sneak away. No trust built up between me and the JLA as Hawkgirl, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman, and Superman thought I was lying, Batman and J'onn thought I was telling the truth, and Flash wouldn't stop flirting with me. I hadn't let my age slip yet, but I suspected he would stop if he knew I didn't even have a driver's license. Then again, I sort of enjoyed the attention. He was the only one who didn't have a side in the whole 'she's lying/telling the truth' feud we had going on._

            I heard footsteps come into the kitchen, and then stop behind me. Wondering what they were doing (all of the electronics were on the left side of the room, not the back wall), I turned around . . . and saw a big red S. 

            He started to back out, but I looked him in the eye and he froze.

            "We need to talk, Clark."

            Clark nodded almost imperceptibly, pulled out a chair to my right, and sat down. I didn't break my gaze for a while, and I was stunned by what I saw there. There were tears. From what, I wasn't sure. Anger, sadness, frustration, _something that I was sure had to do with me. Be_hind _the tears, however, were a whole slew of emotions. Emotions so jumbled I couldn't tell what was what. Then I had to look away. At the ceiling, at the floor, just anywhere else. Because when I looked Clark in the eye, I had a revelation. This was real. This was __all real._

            Before of course, I thought it couldn't be true. That was why I went to the news. I didn't think it would have any effect; I wasn't thinking of them as _real people. Now I saw. They were as real as me._

            Clark was still silent, obviously noticing that I was thinking. I looked back up at him.

            "I'm sorry."

            The tears rolled down his cheeks; I dropped my head into my arms, starting to cry myself. For about five minutes, there was nothing but the sound of us crying. Then I felt a hand on my arm. Looking up, I saw that he was smiling. _Well, at least his facial expression changed. _

            "I'm sorry too." At my startled reaction, he evaluated. "I was being stubborn by not talking to you, and that just made the situation worse. Can you forgive me?"

            I nodded, still stunned, then muttered,

"Can _you forgive __me?"_

He nodded, continuing to smile. I smiled as well, and put my hand on top of his.

"Uh, am I interrupting something?"

            We turned our heads toward the door to see Flash standing there, looking confused. I rolled my eyes and picked up a coaster from the table, chucking it at him very swiftly but still missing (he _is _'The Flash').

            "Yes, _Streak, _you are in fact interrupting a very emotional moment."

            "I told you not to call me that!"

            "And you think I listened? When you talk to me, this is what it sounds like. Blah, blah, blah, chicks, blah, blah, blah, fastest man alive, blah, blah, blah, food. Got it?"

            He frowned and I giggled a little bit. Clark had taken his hand off my arm and was now leaning his head onto it, watching Flash and I, looking exasperated. I looked at him expectantly.

            "Hey, Supes, we're cool now, right?"

            He grinned, genuinely. 

            "Yeah, we're cool."

* * * * *

Oh yes, you have to say it now, I actually listen to your cries for more Justice League. But for those of you who are still waiting for the Tsunami sequel, you'll be waiting a while. I'm not too sure where I'm going to go with it, so if you don't feel like waiting, go read some other story. If you _do _feel like waiting, then sit tight and hold on. That goes for this story too. Not the 'I don't know where I'm going' part, but the 'it's going to be a while' part. Auf Wiedersehen! (I love my German class.)


End file.
